Sexual Magic
by Emily Waters
Summary: Ancient form of sexual magic is discovered: in order to defeat Voldemort, Harry needs to shag Snape. To save the world, Harry sets out on a quest to bed Snape, appealing to all fanfiction cliches known to man to get the job done. Humor, very silly.


**Sexual Magic**

In Dumbledore's office, Kingsley, McGonagall, Moody, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat, staring at the Headmaster expectantly, waiting for him to speak. Something important was up, they knew that.

"Harry, I have some good news." Dumbledore's voice was sad and mournful. Harry sighed deeply, because these words spoken by the Headmaster usually heralded years of darkness and doom in his experience. Dumbledore looked at Harry apologetically in a way that made Harry shiver slightly. "Harry... you have the power..."

"Oh for fuck's sake, just tell me what I'm supposed to do!" Harry snapped, irritated no end by the whole thing. "It can't be any worse than the Chamber of Secrets, or that stupid tournament..."

"Quit right," Dumbledore said agreeably. "We've discovered a wonderful ancient magic... that will defeat Voldemort once and for all. It involves, ah, sexual magic," Dumbledore said delicately.

"Harry has to shag someone?" Ron clarified.

"Indeed."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. As far as terrible sacrifices went, this one wasn't so bad.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Well, Harry, the magic requires a mixing of magical energies of two people. One would have to be the person born on the 31st of July, as Trelawney's prophecy indicates. Specifically, you. The other would have to be someone who had received the Dark Mark exactly three years prior to your birth."

"I'd have to shag a Death Eater," Harry mused, wrinkling his nose. The image of Belatrix Lestrange flashed through his mind and he shivered slightly, unsure if he was disturbed or amused.

"Not just any Death Eater," Dumbledore said. "A Death Eater who'd received his Mark exactly three years prior to your birth. As our luck would have it, there's such a person, and only one such person..."

"Lucius?" Harry asked. He was half-smiling at the question. He'd always privately thought that Lucius was kind of hot...

"Severus Snape," Dumbledore said.

"Well, fuck."

"Yes," Hermione said. "How are you going to convince Snape to shag Harry?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Harry said confidently. "Leave that to me. As our luck would have it I'm a magical Creature. I'm part incubus, part veela and part High Elf. No mortal can resist my thrall, if I choose to use it...or so says the Creature lore."

"Well, I'll be damned," Ron said. "Why didn't we know about this until now?"

"It didn't come up," Harry said nonchalantly. "Anyway... give me a week."

* * *

A week later, Kingsley, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Moody gathered in the office, along with Harry, Hermione and Ron.

"Voldemort is still alive," Kingsley said grimly. "Harry, mind explaining that to us?"

"Snape didn't want to be shagged," Harry said ruefully.

"I thought you were supposed to be a Creature!" McGonagall said with a scowl.

"Well, yes, and Creature magic does tend to be helpful in such matters, but in this case it wasn't enough," Harry said irritably.

Moody shook his head in disappointment.

"What!!!" Harry snapped. "It's not my fault that Snape is heterosexual, you know. Creature magic can go only so far..."

"Well, there's always Amortentia," Hermione said. "I can brew us some, and we'll feed it to Snape."

Harry sighed tiredly. "Ok. I suppose that'll have to do."

* * *

A week later, the meeting was reconvened.

"Maybe you botched the love potion," McGonagall said, staring at Hermione with disapproval.

"When did I ever botch a potion!" Hermione spat irritably. "Anyway, it was perfect. I tested it..."

Harry chuckled. "Is that why Ginny ran after Hagrid, screaming she wanted to kiss him on the lips and lick his nipples?"

Hermione shrugged indifferently. "The point is, the potion was flawless. But apparently, even the strongest love potion in the world isn't enough to overcome the mutual animosity between Snape and Harry."

"Well," Harry mused. "I think it worked to some extent. I mean... today, he only took forty points from Gryffindor when I mouthed off to him. Usually, it'd be fifty."

Ron scratched his head. "You know, I'm thinking... what about something stronger... something, er... you know, like a slave-bond, and all. A sexual one. An irresistible one."

"A what?" Hermione asked dubiously. "Ron, you just made that up!"

"I didn't!" Ron protested. "There are slavery spells, that, um, turn someone into a total sex-slave. The sex-slave can't live without the Master's affection and touch... The Master has to, er, hand-feed the slave, and pet him, and spank him, and um, penetrate him anally every night, or else, the slave dies a terrible painful death within a week."

"That sounds really irritating," Hermione mused. "For the Master, at least."

"Well, we don't have a choice," Harry said. "Look, it's fine. Cast the spell. I'll be able to reverse the spell once Voldemort is defeated, right?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "You might end up stuck with Snape as your slave for the rest of your life."

Harry shrugged indifferently. "Which is just as well, seeing that Ginny is now with Hagrid..."

* * *

"It didn't work."

"What? Don't tell me you fucked up the slave spell?" Hermione said, smacking Ron on the head. "Let me see," she ripped the notebook out of Ron's hands and scanned the pages. "Oh, um, ok. I guess you did it right. So, Harry?" she turned to look at Harry quizzically.

Harry bowed his head, cradling his right hand in his left. It still hurt, though not so much anymore.

"What happened to your hand, Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"I, uh, decided to test out the slave-spell, so, I um, sort of patted Snape's bum," Harry said sheepishly. "Snape, sort of..."

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry with concern.

"Grabbed me by the wrist, dragged me out of the classroom, tossed me out, and said next time, he'd crush my hand into powder and use it in his potions," Harry said ruefully. "Oh, and he took five hundred points from Gryffindor."

"Well, damn," Hermione said. "What about the slave spell?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, maybe he's sort of become immune to that sort of thing..."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well, he's always been a slave, sort of, first to Voldemort, then to Dumbledore, and he always did his own thing, for the most part, you know? I think he just... pretty much learned to ignore his Masters."

"Well, what about his need to be penetrated?" Hermione asked with a frown.

McGonagall snorted under her breath. "No teacher working under Dumbledore lacks that sort of thing, I daresay."

Dumbledore turned to look at McGonagall when he heard his name. "What was that?"

"Nothing," McGonagall said sweetly.

"That really sucks," Ron said sincerely. "Well, any other ideas on how to get Snape and Harry to shag?"

Kingsley, Moody, McGonagall and Dumbledore each shook their heads.

"You know, there's a way," Hermione said cautiously. "But it's highly unethical."

"Do go on," Moody said, his prosthetic eye spinning wildly.

"Well," Hermione took a deep breath before continuing, "let's say something terrible happened, and Snape got... uh... say, tortured, and raped, and such... and Harry rescued him. They'd likely bond, you know, the whole rescuer/victim connection will be there, and heterosexuality wouldn't matter as much... Not that I'm advocating torture and rape!" she added quickly, looking obviously guilty.

"Of course not," Moody said, standing up abruptly. "Now I have to leave on a completely unrelated matter."

"Yes, me too," Kingsley said.

Ron poked Harry in the side. "Harry? What do you think?"

"What?" Harry asked. "Sorry, Ron. I kind of spaced out. Wasn't paying attention."

"Just as well," Dumbledore said. "Maybe this sort of thing should be unrehearsed."

"Huh? I think I lost you there," Harry said.

"We meet again in a week."

* * *

"Well, this was quite a week," Harry said ruefully, dropping into a chair.

"Go on, tell us what happened," Hermione said anxiously.

"Well, Snape looked a little stressed most of the week, and jumpy, as if he was being stalked or something. So then, I got curious, and decided to keep an eye on him. On Friday afternoon, I heard someone scream. I ran to the rescue, and um... er... there were some uniformed blokes, trying to strip Snape naked and rape him," Harry said, sounding completely weirded out by the whole thing.

"Well, what did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Um, I rescued him, of course," Harry said. "And that was it."

"Well, and then?" Hermione asked. "Did you hug him? Did you tell him it wasn't his fault? Did you tell him you'd, you know, be there to listen if he wanted to talk?"

Harry stared at her blankly. "Was I supposed to?"

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "Of course Harry you were supposed to! That's what rescuers do! He obviously has PTSD, and he obviously needs your help, and it's just this kind of thing that can lead to you two falling in love!"

* * *

"I did what you told me to do," Harry looked at Hermione grimly and rubbed the black bruise under his eye.

"He didn't want your help? He doesn't have PTSD?" Hermione asked regretfully.

"How could I tell if he did?"

"Well, people with PTSD will have this weird stare, and they will freak out for no reason, or lash out at people who are trying to help them, and they'll be basically reacting inappropriately to the oddest things," Hermione said.

"Right, so how could I tell if he had PTSD? I mean that sounds like normal Snape-behavior," Harry pointed out. "Well, anyway, so I came up to him, and told him it wasn't his fault, and I'd be there for him, and hugged him, and....well, I don't quite remember what happened then. I woke up in the Hospital Wing two hours later."

"I think he punched you!" Hermione sounded both horrified and disappointed at once.

"Well, we don't know that," Harry said. "I could have just walked into a doorknob on my way out of the dungeons, and blacked out."

Hermione stared at him with concern. "Snape didn't come to look after you? Hold your hand?"

"No," Harry said miserably. "Ginny didn't come to hold my hand either. I think she's still with Hagrid."

He sighed tiredly. He couldn't remember last time he was so depressed.

"All right, what about a forced marriage law?" Kingsley asked. "We'll pass a law, requiring everyone to get married immediately... to whoever the Ministry tells them to marry. Otherwise, it's Dementor's Kiss."

"Nice," Moody approved instantly.

"All right," Harry said tiredly, but without much hope.

* * *

"He did what?" Moody screamed.

"I told you. He chose the Dementor's Kiss," Harry said bitterly.

"Fuck. I have to go!" Kingsley said, bolting to his feet. "How long ago was that?"

"Three days ago."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner!" Moody shouted.

Harry shrugged. "I was depressed. Being less desirable than Dementor's Kiss isn't exactly doing wonders for my self-esteem, you know."

Kingsley stepped into the Floo and departed hastily.

* * *

"All right, we've got a problem," Kingsley said grimly. "The Dementors are pissed off. They are aligning themselves with Voldemort."

"Why are they pissed off?" Hermione asked.

"About two dozen of them died, trying to feed on Snape," Kingsley explained. "The poor things starved to death. Apparently, the sod doesn't have any happy thoughts."

Harry snorted under his breath. "I could have told you that years ago."

"Well, now what?" Hermione asked sadly.

"I think this is it," Dumbledore said just as sadly. "We've exhausted all options. Potion, slavery, PTSD, forced marriage law, Creature magic... nothing was good enough to get Harry and Snape to shag. I'm afraid the wizarding world is doomed. I suggest you all make peace with the fact that we'll live in the world of darkness and despair... and possibly say your goodbyes, as Voldemort will attack Hogwarts shortly."

Hermione sulked. Ron hugged her tightly.

Harry sighed. "I'll just talk to him and explain everything to him," he said. "I should have done that to begin with."

* * *

Snape, to Harry's unending shock, heard him out without screaming, hollering, threatening, deducting points from Gryffindor, or even interrupting him.

"I see," Snape said dryly. "So the creature thrall, the forced marriage, the attempted rape, the love potion and the slave spell were all your doing?"

"Not the attempted rape," Harry said. "That was a total surprise even for me. The rest I was a part of."

"You're very committed to defeating the Dark Lord," Snape said softly.

"Yes. It's the most important thing in the world for me," Harry said. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry."

"Sorry," Snape repeated. "Yes. You should be sorry. You should have spoken to me directly. Why didn't you?"

"I never thought you'd give me the time of day, and this was too important to screw up," Harry said honestly. "So, look...I know that I messed up with all that stuff, but maybe we could start over?"

Snape stared at him quizzically.

"Go out on a date, catch a movie, have a few beers, and see how things go?" Harry offered. "I mean, we obviously have something going for us. All that hate and animosity and mutual loathing.. there must be something deeper there, don't you think?"

"Yes," Snape confirmed solemnly. "An even deeper loathing that I'm containing for the sake of my career. Get out of here, Potter."

"So, the date?" Harry prodded him, rising to his feet.

"No."

"So what, we just shag then?"

"No."

"Don't you want to defeat Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"Not at that cost. The only thing that I hate more than I hate him, is the idea of shagging you, Potter," Snape said sincerely. "Good night."

Harry sighed deeply. "Good night, Professor."

"Oh, almost forgot. Five hundred points from Gryffindor, for lying, and endangering my life," Snape said.

"I don't think it makes much of a difference anymore," Harry noted.

"Quite correct," Snape confirmed, sounding pleased. "In fact, if you single-handedly defeat Voldemort twice, and cure cancer, Gryffindor will still be two thousand points behind the other houses."

"So why do you still bother with the points then?" Harry asked.

"I'm petitioning to the Board to transfer the negative point balance into the next academic year," Snape explained smugly.

"Oh. Well, good luck with that," Harry muttered, and walked away.

When Harry went to sleep that night, his scar hurt again. Voldemort's darkness was descending upon the wizarding world, enveloping everyone and everything Harry held dear. He sobbed tearlessly in his sleep, hating himself for failing everyone he ever loved in such a horrible way. He thought about Hermione and Ron, about his other friends, about Dumbledore and McGonagall, and the ache became deeper and deeper. But he wasn't good enough, Harry thought, he never was. Eventually, when he got too tired to hurt, the pain lifted and he slipped into a dreamless, but peaceful sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up when the shouts of triumph were echoing through the Gryffindor dorm.

"It's over! It's over! We're done! The war is over! He did it!"

Harry bolted to sit up.

"Harry, did you hear?" Ron shouted, running up to him, and shaking him. "Harry! Get up, the war is over! Voldemort is gone! The prophecy worked!"

"Huh?" Harry blinked rapidly. "What happened?"

He walked into the Gryffindor common room, following Ron. It was filled with students from all houses. In the middle of the room, Neville stood, grinning happily, while everyone was oohing and ahhing over him.

"So Snape came up to me, and said we had to shag to defeat Voldemort," Neville said shyly. "I said all right, so we went ahead, and..."

"Well, give us the details!" Luna said, gazing at Neville adoringly. "Is he hung like a Thestral?"

"Mmmyeah," Neville said dreamily. "He's big. And oh god, he stays hard for a long time, and I do mean, long... and then, he recovers real quick too, and he can do it over and over again... so first we did the sixty-nine, then he did me doggy-style, then I did him with him on his back, then I gave him oral, then he spanked me and tied me up, and did me two more times, and finally, we were just kissing, and then I saw a flash of bright light, and then, I heard Voldemort's voice scream in my head, and then, everything was over."

"Awwww," Padma and Pavarti said together in a very sentimental tone of voice. "The war ended with a kiss. How romantic!"

"Yeah," Neville said, blushing a little.

"Wonderful," Hermione said approvingly. "Any idea why he chose you over Harry to shag?"

Neville nodded. "He, um, said it'd probably work with either of us, given that we both fit the Prophecy, but I was the less repulsive of his two options..." Neville cast a quick glance in Harry's direction. "Sorry, mate."

"It's all right, I really don't care, it's not like I fancy him, and the important thing is that the war is over," Harry denied.

"Yeah," Neville agreed quietly.

"So are you going to see him again?" Luna asked.

Neville blushed more. "Yeah, though we aren't going to rush anything, you know? We'll just date for a while and see how things go..." Neville grinned a little. "It's kind of funny, neither of us thought of blokes that way before, but the last night was absolutely incredible, and offing Voldemort was such a huge head rush that … I think it did something to our brains, and we might give it a go, you know?"

Everyone nodded understandingly.

Neville smiled again. "Ok, I gotta go. Want to say hello to him before breakfast."

"Bye, Neville," everyone said in unison.

Harry watched Neville leave, and weird images spinned in his mind. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Because he really didn't fancy Snape at all. But...

He went back to the dorm and sat on the bed, hugging his knees. He should have been happy, but all he could think about was Neville and Snape shagging, and some weird, uncalled for, inappropriate emotion was clouding the joy of victory. What the hell was it? Was it jealously? No, it couldn't be. There was no way he was jealous of Neville shagging Snape.

Hermione and Ron entered the room and sat on his bed next to him.

Hermione petted Harry's hair.

"How are you doing?"

"Just fine," he said miserably. "I wish I was dead."

Ron squeezed his shoulder. "You're just feeling rejected that Snape chose Neville over you."

"I'm not!" Harry said quickly.

"Well, look, Harry," Hermione said, "I know it hurts to be rejected, but... it's probably better this way. Snape and you had too many differences. A relationship would have never worked. And you prefer girls anyway, don't you?"

"I thought I did," Harry whispered. "But two months of thinking up ways to get Snape to shag me, I think... I... fancy blokes now."

"It's just a phase. It'll pass," Hermione said calmly, although there was a clear note of doubt in her voice.

"It won't," Harry muttered. "I think the entire ordeal did something to my brain."

"Well," Ron said helpfully, "the effect of the love potion that Ginny took should wear off shortly... Then Hagrid will be available again."

Harry shook his head. He could tell that Ron was trying, but it wasn't helping at all.

"Let's go to breakfast, Harry," Hermione said, patting him on the shoulder.

"You go on. I'll join you later," Harry said. "I need to be alone."

They left and Harry stretched out on the bed, and shut his eyes. The war was over, but he didn't win anything. Instead, the war it took everything he had away from him. Like Ginny. And even everything he never had, just hoped he might. Like Snape.

* * *

Harry skipped classes that day. He didn't care. He had a feeling most students and teachers would skip classes as well, as the celebration of victory continued.

Harry simply stayed in bed, half-sleeping, half-feeling sorry for himself.

Harry opened his eyes when someone shook his shoulder.

"Hi, Neville," Harry whispered, feeling his breath catch in his throat. "How's it going with Snape?"

"Great!" Neville said enthusiastically. "We're going through all the different sexual positions, and he's really good with bondage, and his hands are to die for! Oh and he's really good with his mouth, too, you know, he does that thing with his tongue..."

"That's really great," Harry said evenly. "I'm very happy for you."

"You know what the best thing is? We really talk. I mean, he's a total top, he takes charge, but he really listens, and he really tries to make me happy, no matter what it takes," Neville continued. "He says he'll do things for me he'd never do for any other reason, and I believe him. I've never been with anyone like that..."

"Yeah, that's good," Harry mumbled, as the feeling of misery continued to grow.

"I suggested we try a blindfold, and he got one right away. I suggested Japanese rope bondage, and there it was." Neville grinned impishly. "Then I told him I started fantasizing about another bloke, and told him who, and he freaked out a little, but I pouted for two minutes, and he even agreed to a threesome. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah," Harry said bitterly. "Cool. Well, I'm very happy for you. Now go away."

"Well?" Neville said, tugging on Harry's sleeve.

"Well, what?" Harry asked sullenly, as his arm flopped in the air, looking more limp than when Lockhart accidentally de-boned it.

"Aren't you interested in the threesome?" Neville asked. "Snape said it'd cost me, but I don't mind..."

Harry bolted to sit up in bed, and a ridiculous grin appeared on his face of its own accord. "Me? You? Snape? Really?" The disjointed words fell off Harry's lips one by one in rapid-fire succession.

Neville smiled at him. "You. Me. Snape. Really."

Harry jumped off the bed, and hugged Neville tightly.

"Have I told you? You're my hero," Harry said, before they both sprinted towards the Slytherin Dungeons.

And only then, Harry finally dared to believe that he'd actually won something as well.

**~ fin**


End file.
